


driven by a beating heart

by velvetcrowbars



Series: as the sun rises [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Falling In Love, Introspection, M/M, Relationship Study, Save Me, but like a Hot dweeb, daichi is very sentimental, kuroo is a dweeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcrowbars/pseuds/velvetcrowbars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>It was definitely not in Daichi's future plans to fall in love with Kuroo Tetsurou. </p>
  <p>Shit happens.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	driven by a beating heart

**Author's Note:**

> “God I want you  
> in some primal, wild way  
> animals want each other.  
> Untamed and full of teeth.  
> God I want you,  
> In some chaste, Victorian way.  
> A glimpse of your ankle  
> just kills me.”  
> -Clementine Von Radics

_i. may (as a monsoon)_

  


Rain in Tokyo is different from the rain in Miyagi.

It’s heavier, it feels more condensed and all encompassing on skin, soaking through the pavement and skyscraper roofs by it’s own accord; the rain doesn’t care who it harms or who it helps. Rain in Tokyo is disobedient, willful, with a mind of it’s own.

 

(it reminds him of meeting a certain someone, all lopsided smile and intelligent eyes,)

 

Now Sawamura Daichi considers himself a reasonable person; he goes to all of his classes, besides the occasional Philosophy lecture, and never forgets to pay his bills each month and even babysits the kids who live downstairs from time to time when things are really in a pinch. He considers, no, knows that while he sometimes forgets to check his mail and has a really terrible caffeine addiction coupled with bad cramming study habits that he is, in fact, a normal person.

 

(even the way he meets this certain someone is ordinary, at least by initial impressions,)

 

Which was what lead Daichi to wonder as to how he ended up stuck in the childlike rain of Tokyo, with Kuroo Tetsurou, on the twenty-fifth day of May in his old sweatpants and hoodie that probably could walk on it’s own at this point of its usage, with his increasingly soaked plastic convenience store bag of ramen and soda hanging at his side. And as to why exactly Kuroo Tetsurou was staring at him, damp and unruly hair dripping raindroplets onto his curved nose and face light with some unreadable emotion that looked a little bit like disbelief.

 

(Kuroo Tetsurou is _not_ normal, not by any stretch of the imagination.)

 

“Sawamura?” his voice had risen easily above the stilted pat of the rain on the top of the train station; it was familiar and it stirred something in the pit of Daichi’s stomach he wasn’t even aware was there.

“Kuroo?” was all he can manage to echo back, watching carefully as Kuroo shoved his hands in his jacket pocket and leaned towards him ever so slightly on the tips of his sneakers. He grinned a little at his response, exposing a glimpse of a smile that, in retrospect, Daichi wouldn’t fully understand for a long time.

 

“Long time no see, captain.”

 

“I could say the same to you.”

 

“Here for University?”

 

“Just got here a few weeks ago. You too?”

 

“Of course. Logical decision, don’t you think?”

 

Kuroo took a step closer, eyes glinting with something playful and alive that made Daichi’s hold on his bag tighten subconsciously in anticipation.

“Welcome to the big city,” he hummed and gestured to the rain falling outside the station platform vaguely with a nod of his head. “Let me show you around.” and there was that quirk of his mouth again and tilt of his head and Daichi had found himself surprisingly compelled to take the offer up.

 

“After all, we have a lot to catch up on.”

 

(Kuroo is _so_ not normal, not with the way his clothes drape across his frame like they were made just for him and Daichi wouldn’t realize it for a long time that even though being normal has different definitions, Kuroo would _always_ be extraordinary to him.)

 

They did, incidentally, end up having a lot to talk about, between graduation and a future that neither of them were really sure of for themselves (he was into Physics, Kuroo into English), Daichi found that they fit together in a rather odd way. Maybe not perfectly and maybe not all at once but somewhere between the caught in the moment gazes during practice matches, the subtle brush of knuckles when putting equipment away at the same time during training camps and quickened pulses amidst handshakes, they had discovered something. It was so underlying that he hadn’t even noticed it at first, but when Kuroo waves him off that first time at the door to his apartment complex with a twist of his lips and scratch behind his head, the feeling Daichi finds behind his ribcage is one that he knew and recognized all too well.

 

It was not until approximately five “coincidental” meet ups and smooth run-ins like these (the library three times, the train station again, and twice in front of that ramen stand he loves) that Daichi managed to piece together what was going on, have everything click in his headspace and punch Kuroo lightly on the arm for being so subtle in his approach. Punch himself a little for being so incredibly dense in the process.

 

(when Kuroo kisses him the first time, a little inebriated and half-awake on his living room floor, thumb resting on his cheekbone and the fringe of his hair brushing Daichi’s forehead, he almost mourns the fact that they hadn’t discovered it sooner.)

  
  


_ii. august (of knee socks and salt skin)_

  


Over the years, Daichi had learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they drink their coffee. It’s not a difficult thing to notice and through his time of careful observation of his teammates he could tell that someone’s personality can be reflected through this simple action and movement of cup to mouth; Asahi was duly cautious and apprehensious, Kageyama a little forceful and hurried, Sugawara gentle and easy. The habit of casually watching in this simple way had become a part of Daichi’s routine when sitting across from anyone, because he liked figuring people out. It was straightforward and simple, the act of drinking coffee, just the way he liked it. Nobody can hide behind everyday actions.

 

(But as he had learned from previous experience, Kuroo is not _either_ of those things.)

 

Their tenth, or maybe eleventh - he was losing count - date is a casual meeting at the coffee shop down the street from Daichi’s apartment while the sun is still sticky in the sky and cicadas hum their chorus from hidden spots by the sidewalk. He finds himself sweating a little in his light short sleeve shirt, but more due to the black v-neck Kuroo wears than the slight heat of the afternoon light. The temporary break in both of their class schedules had allowed for this date to even occur, but Daichi was quickly reconsidering whether he was mentally prepared enough to be in front of Kuroo’s partially exposed chest for more than a few minutes. It was one thing with the possibility of seeing Kuroo without any clothes (which he hadn’t yet) and seeing the small expanse of accented collarbones and lines of his neck that made something seethe slowly in the back of Daichi’s head and chest.

 

As he turned to face him to ask Kuroo what he wanted to order he forcibly tilted his gaze up slightly to look at Kuroo’s scrutinizing expression, until he finally glanced down to meet Daichi’s gaze with an order for a hazelnut macchiato rolling off his tongue. Inevitably, Daichi swallowed a little too hard for his own comfort level.

 

(Yet when he placed his own order for a black coffee and found Kuroo scrunching his nose in a look of vague disgust, the tip of his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, the twist in Daichi’s stomach immediately smoothed out in the best possible way.)

 

“How do you even drink that stuff, it’s an _abomination._ ”

 

“Says the guy whose drink is more sugar than coffee.”

 

“Hey now. Don’t get feisty Sawamura.”  

 

Kuroo bumps his knees against Daichi’s distractedly and holds his coffee cup with a kind of gracious lilt of his hands that leaves Daichi a little mesmerized which has never happened before with his small ritual of hand studying. It could be the way Kuroo traces the handle with the tip of his finger absentmindedly as he talks about his latest linguistics project or his lazy smile at whatever small retort Daichi makes at him that causes Daichi to pause and think about whether what he’s getting into is really a good idea or not. Because it wasn’t the first time he had stopped to ponder it, and it certainly would not be the last, not at the rate they were going which was aimed at falling fast and headfirst into a territory neither of them really know.

 

But then he remembers; he remembers how Kuroo is very intelligent albeit a bit unworthy of having so much of said intelligence to himself and that he’s a cuddly drunk who loves to talk about his favorite books while bopping his finger against Daichi’s nose. He eats icecream straight from the carton and like to bury his face against Daichi’s neck when he gets tired and stays up too late sometimes, falling asleep on the couch with his thick reading glasses still balancing on his nose. He has a repertoire of cheesy pickup lines from famous movies and never loses in card games and his eyes are pools of dark light filtering through branches of trees in summer.

 

(to summarize, the way Kuroo drinks his coffee really knocks Daichi the fuck out, but he’s not about to tell him that at any time within any conceivable future.)

  
  


_iii. november (all of the stars)_

  
  


It happens on accident.

 

The static of the television is just dying as the credits of the way too long action movie Daichi had unknowingly picked out rolled and the hum of the city outside is apparent through the cracked window of Kuroo's apartment. It's dark and the air seeping through his skin is slightly chilled. He feels boneless and drifting with his cheek pressed against Kuroo's chest as he feels his ribs expand and contract beneath his hands. Their legs tangle and Kuroo brushes his foot lightly against Daichi's ankle absentmindedly as his fingers trace the notches of his spin in a lazy rhythm up and down his back.

 

(neither of them had really been watching the movie. then again, usually when they were in the same room, Daichi found it hard to look away,)

 

"Hey, Sawamura?"

 

Adjusting so that more his chin is resting on Kuroo, he can see that he's been looking straight at him for who knows how long, and it's enough to make Daichi's face more than a little hot. Kuroo doesn't wait for a response but instead shifts his attention to some fixed point on the ceiling that Daichi cannot see.

 

"What are you gonna do?"

 

"What do you mean 'do'"

 

He drew his eyebrows together in a question mark. Between the look on Kuroo's face and the phrasing of the question, he honestly wasn't sure how to answer. Kuroo bit his lip and settled deeper into the couch they were sprawled out on, their bodies overlapping in a casual sort of way. He looks so boyishly handsome it makes Daichi's chest feel warm and full.

 

"Y'know ten, fifteen years from now. Where do you see yourself?"

 

“Hmm,”

 

The air stills and lengthens between them as Daichi contemplates for a minute. He feels Kuroo’s steady breathing underneath him and the thrum of the heater vaguely humming in the corner and suddenly he feels very big, like this room is all that exists between them. An interminable amount of finites stretched from in front like an open plain.

 

(Even though Daichi knows that people don’t live forever and good things don’t exactly stay it’s hard to believe those sentiments when he hears Kuroo’s heart beating right beside his own.)

 

“A job I like. People I care about. A dog, hopefully.”

 

“A dog?”

 

“You’re really opposed to the idea of my having a dog?”

 

Kuroo snorts and shakes his head, hair falling against his forehead in a more messy way than usual. His arm draped across Daichi’s back pulls him even closer, “That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Well what about you then?”

 

“Me…” he pauses, cocking his head and twisting his lips into a jagged line. Kuroo’s gaze shifts down to look at Daichi, all soft and face tinged red.  

 

“W-Well as long as you’re there. I won’t ask for anything else.”  

 

The heat was creeping across Daichi’s face before Kuroo even finished, but he checked his face into the most neutral expression he could conjure up which, at the moment, was not very neutral at all.

 

“You…stuttered.”

 

“ _Shut up._ ”

 

But then laughter is bubbling up in Daichi’s throat and he lets it slip, right against the flaming blush encompassing Kuroo’s entire face and slightly pained expression. Because they were ridiculous and for a split second Daichi had wanted to stop and press rewind to replay Kuroo’s words over again, wanted to hear the sound his tongue makes behind his teeth and catches in his chest.

 

“Kuroo.” he arches his eyebrows and adopted the most scolding voice he knew. “I’ll be there. After all I lo-”

 

(he steels himself, catches it, because those words aren’t meant to be said lightly and he can’t help but shake his head for his density getting in the way again. But he can’t, he can’t say it.)

 

“You’re my best friend.”  

 

It’s hardly there, more a murmur against the cotton of Kuroo’s shirt and the fleece blanket wrapping them together than anything else as he forces the words out with all he has and even then it still twinges deep down in his stomach. Daichi watches the emotions drag across Kuroo’s features: parted lips in a question mark, eyes wide and shocked, he blinks away into understanding.

 

(but he’s not worried as Kuroo grins, stretching all the way to his eyes and leaving them small half moons)

 

Because Kuroo understands. He always does. Ever since the first day they met as third years in front of the gym with nothing but their number-one jerseys and some timid flame of a dream tucked in their chests for their own team’s victory. Always, from the very beginning.

 

“Yeah Sawamura, I love you too.”

  
  


_iv. february (exceedingly loud, incredibly close)_

  


There is a fine line between things Daichi is sure of and things he is not.

 

Kuroo’s smile is reminiscent of the cracks on windowpanes and the splintered corners of driftwood; something that was sharp when Daichi kissed it and left his lungs burning like they had been painted with kerosene.

 

(what he is sure of: he is in love with Kuroo. probably.

what he is unsure of: being able to keep that fact a secret.)

 

Feeling for him in the dark, Daichi often wonders if the skin beneath his finger pads at the nape of Kuroo’s neck and the dips on his hips are made of foreign things like rusted steel and warm oceans or if he himself is simply becoming strangely sentimental. Daichi allows Kuroo to explore him; to excavate, to learn, to heal the small chinks in his armor and patch up the holes left behind between empty doorways and wilted daisies pressed into dusty scrapbook albums. When Daichi moans behind his teeth and knuckles turn white against the sheets Kuroo presses kisses to his face and whispers things against the red sunset smattered across Daichi’s cheekbones.

 

( _‘god, you’re really cute’_ simultaneously being one of Daichi’s least and most favorite.)

 

Through this odd process of flesh out, detox, rinse and repeat, they find a balance caught between lusty breathes and the friction of lips on skin. Daichi isn't sure whether the feeling bubbling behind his head is something that should be acted upon but he supposes it doesn't matter anymore; all that matters is the hazy warmth that sparks between them and makes his toes curl as the sighs pour from their lips.

 

(sometimes it is not like this, so slow and tense that it feels like his skin is on fire,)

 

Sometimes Kuroo is fast, indomitable, and its like being caught in a whirlwind with the way he leaves teeth marks and bruises on his hips or on his thighs, like if he were to let go then Daichi may cease to be there anymore at all. It’s intoxicating and Daichi is so easily swept away, especially when Kuroo’s eyes are sharp as razors and mouth tastes like citrus and dark chocolate. Yet at the same time he doesn’t really mind because there is something special about the way Kuroo grips at his arm muscles and unravels, kissing and biting at Daichi’s lips like a lifeline.

 

(these are the times where they both wake up sore and grumpy the next morning, a little in spite of themselves,)

 

And the first time he stays over Kuroo burns the toast and the coffee he makes is really terrible but its worth it because the threadbare Nekoma sweatshirt Daichi slips on is really comfortable and Kuroo’s bedhead manages to be even worse in the moments after he’s just woken up. He pats Kuroo's head a few times, running his fingers through the ruffled mess and trying to keep the smile off his face as Kuroo groggily mutters and laughs gently, "Stop that, you'll make it worse."

 

(he swats at Daichi's fingers in his hair but ends up holding his hand without even realizing it,)

 

It’s almost endearing, the way Kuroo leans his upper body across the counter in the kitchen, resting his chin against his hand and gazing while he thinks Daichi is too preoccupied with the newspaper to notice. He doesn’t start or turn an embarrassing shade of red anymore (well, maybe a little) when Daichi catches him and when he scoots a little closer so that their noses almost touch to whisper-

“What is it?”

Kuroo simply closes the small gap to bump their foreheads together and say in a blissed out voice, almost more of a purr that sends a pulse through Daichi’s chest,

 

“Nothing. ‘M just really happy.”

 

When he cuffs Kuroo behind the ears and he lets loose that smile that still doesn’t quite make sense Daichi feels like he’s bottled the stars.

  


**Author's Note:**

> i think i'm in love with kuroo tetsurou 
> 
>  
> 
> sorrry i wri te them badl y i just had hto ge t this out of my sys e tem or i w as goign to explod e


End file.
